


Doctor's Orders

by sg_wonderland



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A doctor and her soldiers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor's Orders

Well, isn’t this a switch. Daniel Jackson entering my infirmary. In the vertical position, no less. I’m so used to seeing him sprawled out horizontally on a gurney that I admit to doing a mental double take. But no, that’s him, all six foot something, walking on his own power. 

“Dr. Fraiser,” he greets me with a wink.

“Dr. Jackson,” this is an old joke between the two of us. “I see your mission went well. No hidden bullet holes, no staff wounds I need to see to?”

He extends his arms and completes a surprisingly graceful turn. “No holes, no blood. Do I get a prize?”

I wish I had a lollipop like kiddie docs give out, wouldn’t that shut him up? “I’ll reserve judgement until I see the rest of SG1.”

His wonderful blue eyes take on a wicked gleam. “Well, about that..” He doesn’t have to go any further; I hear that particular bear roaring from down the hallway.

“Can someone tell me how an alien planet, emphasis on the word alien, can have something as American as poison ivy?”

I look at Daniel, who just shrugs and follows my pointed finger and hops up on a gurney. And two of my nurses stroll over, trying to be nonchalant, to take his vitals. He is the number one favorite of most of the nurses. 

The rest of them are pretty equally split between Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c. The very petite Nancy especially likes the very big Teal’c. If we had a BP cuff on her when he walked in the door, I swear it would hit the ceiling. She blushes when we tease her that we’re going to test that theory one of these days.

I stand as a still complaining O’Neill flings himself up on a gurney. Just because I feel a bit wicked, I let him hear me snap the gloves I’m donning. He winces as I advance. “Poison ivy, Colonel?”

 

Daniel is the only one who escaped the attack of the poison ivy-like plant. When Jack complained bitterly to me about this, I couldn’t resist pointing out how. “Dr. Jackson’s allergy medication gave him a certain amount of protection.”

“You mean all those pills and shots saved him from getting poison ivy on his..” He stopped himself just in time.

“Seems like it. Would you like to try it? I’d be more than happy to start you on a round of shots. After, of course, we’ve determined what your allergies are.” I really shouldn’t kid about that. Having been through those tests myself, I can attest to how truly uncomfortable they are. Daniel can back me up on that.

“No,” he eyes the needle I’m holding. “What’s that?”

“Just something for the itch, Colonel,” I smile as I plant the needle in his hip. He’s the biggest baby of them all. Daniel has taken so many shots, I swear he could treat himself. Teal’c takes his licks stoically, Sam complains briefly. But Jack, well, he bitches from the time he sees me reach for the needle until the medication takes effect. 

“There now, all better. Apply the cream as often as you need to, but sparingly, a little of it goes a long way. And, Colonel, if you need help reaching some of the spots, don’t hesitate to come back.” I hear some words under his breath but I ignore them; he’s called me a variety of things over the years and I have to admit some of them sent me into peals of laughter. But in the privacy of my office; it wouldn’t do to let him know how I enjoy his wit.

 

Later, as I get a few minutes, I open their files on the computer and start making notes. I’m not one of these people who complained about learning to use the computer; these things have saved me a ton of time.

In my methodical way, I start with Carter, Captain Samantha. I see that one of the nurses, Nancy I see by the initials, has already entered the vitals for both the pre and post mission exams. God bless these girls, I don’t know what I would do without them. 

I quickly explain the rash and the treatment I prescribed. And I check to make sure she’s up on all her tests, it never pays to get careless in this job. No, Sam’s good for now.

I close her file after printing case notes to put in the actual physical file and open Jackson, Dr. Daniel. He once asked me how many bytes his file was, and I told him it was into the megabytes now. Hmm, might need to update this photo now that Daniel has cut his hair. Or, I guess to be totally correct, since Hathor cut his hair.

I admit to being stunned when they brought him into the infirmary that day. The cut on his leg didn’t surprise me, after all, this is Daniel. But, that close-cropped head stopped me in my tracks. Instead of looking like a little lost lamb, which is what he looked like most of the time, he now looks like a newly shorn lost lamb.

People who are not in the medical field won’t understand this, but we take our fun where we can get it. And for two weeks after SG1 was found miraculously alive (after being missing a horrendously long month) and rescued from Hathor’s clutches, a fierce debate raged around here about which look was preferred. Long and silky or short and sexy. I believe short and sexy won in the end but there was talk of someone stuffing the ballot box.

I just hope someone gets him to a proper stylist, mental note to approach Sam about this. If left up to Colonel O’Neill, he will just end up with some old guy named Earl who only knows one cut, military buzz-it-off-short. The short and sexy camp insisted the new cut showed off Daniel’s blue eyes, I would argue that they were always hard to ignore, even with hair hanging in them. Which I am, or should say was, forever shoving back; must be the mother in me.

But I digress. The notes in Daniel’s file take very little time, and I automatically check his prescriptions and jot a note to check on the filtration system in his office. Siler usually keeps up with making sure the HEPA filters get changed, he has a soft spot for Daniel.

And so onto O’Neill, Colonel Jonathan. The only time I ever heard anyone use that name was here in the infirmary. And Daniel got a pillow across the back of his head for his troubles. Judging by the resigned look on Jack’s face and the smirk on Daniel’s, I’m guessing it wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last.

After I finished his notes, I quickly scanned his file; it isn’t far behind Daniel’s in size. After round two with Hathor, I admit I’ve kept a much closer eye on both of them. When they told me Jack had been implanted, I panicked for a half a second. Went a long way to explaining Daniel’s shock-like symptoms, why he was so docile. 

Sam said they had both been forced to stand and watch the implantation, then informed that Jack would kill them after the Goa’uld took control. Our expressions mirrored our thoughts, Daniel must have been thinking about Sha’re. He seems to have snapped out of it now, although it’s hard to tell because he has unfortunately become an expert at hiding things.

Glancing at Jack’s DOB, I mentally do the math and wonder how much longer they’re gonna let him lead a front line team. This bunch has been together longer than any since the Gate spun for the first time; it is just a matter of time before they get split.

Although I know it will break their hearts, in some ways, it may be for the best. From a military point of view, they are far too emotionally attached to each other. And Jack, well he really needs to get out of the field. With their expertise, Daniel and Sam should never have been there in the first place. A thought, which I would never express to either of them, I value my head just where it is.

And so onto Teal’c, just Teal’c. I once found his folder with a lipstick imprinted sticky note on the front of it. Nancy was accused but I’d be willing to bet it was Joanna, she made sure I saw it as she handed it to me. I managed to whip it off before Teal’c got a look at it. How would I ever explain that? 

Teal’c is the only one of SG1 whom I could argue belongs on a front-line unit. I’d ship out with him any day. It’s not just the muscle, which I admit is impressive. The man is just out and out brilliant when it comes to tactical knowledge. 

Bra’tac once said he was the youngest first prime he had ever known, I don’t doubt it. He also cares deeply for others, a rarity in a true soldier. Like the rest of SG1, he is very tender with Cassie, which I appreciate when scrounging for sitters.

She stayed with Daniel one week during a nasty flu outbreak and I thought I was gonna have to send Teal’c and the Marines in to extract her.

 

 

I’m sitting on a bench outside in the cold sneaking my last smoke of the day when Daniel catches me. I try to hide the cigarette when he quirks those brows at me. With a sigh, he hands me a piece of gum as he sits. “I know you prefer breath mints, but I’m out.”

I regretfully put the cigarette out and accept the gum. I can’t help but look at those long, agile fingers. Without thinking, I take one of his hands in mine and examine it in a clinical manner. “Something wrong?”

“No,” I release his hand and turn to face him, “just thinking what a fine piano player you must be.”

He flushes and blushes and fumbles for something to say. “How did you know?”

“Lt. Sterling let it slip that you two have been practicing for the Christmas party.” I’ve heard Leslie Sterling sing and I’m downright jealous, there are people on the radio who don’t have that good a voice.

“We just kinda want to surprise people.”

Oh, I bet they will. “She’s very good. As I’m sure you are.” The two of them have quite a bit in common. Lt. Sterling’s file has a simple ‘none’ listed under next of kin; when I quizzed her, for medical purposes, she clammed up and finally put her CO’s name down. “How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was a kid. My foster mother heard me at a friend’s house one day and slapped me in class. So I’ve been at it for, whoa,” he does the math, “nearly twenty years.”

I once again silently bless his second mother; the woman who simply refused to let a traumatized eight-year-old drown in an abyss of grief. And so I stand and head out to my other job; as a second mother to my child.

 

The Christmas party has come and gone. Sterling Jackson was the surprise hit of the night. Jack said the name already sounds like a rock group. 

There was a lot of sniffling after Daniel closed the evening out; there is something stirring about hearing “Silent Night” played and played well. Daniel has a real feel for the instrument. Cassie climbed right up on his lap and he delighted her by helping her play a few chords. Looks like I’ll be needing a piano teacher; wonder if Daniel would volunteer. 

I nearly always get choked up when I see the two of them like this, their heads together, hair so similar in color it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. She loves all her aunts and uncles, but there’s a special place reserved for Daniel. The Daniel who helps with homework, especially French.

I heard the two of them speaking one day and I just stood outside his office door and listened to the lilt of their voices and cried. I couldn’t understand a blessed word they were saying but I just wanted to hear them.

Cassie begged to take Daniel to school when they were studying languages and he finally relented. I got a very nice note from her teacher extolling the virtues of Dr. Jackson and his expertise; evidently, he was the hit of the lesson plan. Especially after he had written Cassandra in hieroglyphics. And done it on a very nice scroll that holds a place of honor on her bedroom wall.

I have to smile as she takes off his glasses and puts them on her own face, peering around; they have always fascinated her. She frowns and slips them back on Daniel, fiddles with his short hair and he lets her, I think she’s still in the long and silky club.

Jack scoots her off Daniel’s lap and onto his as he plops himself down with two of his favorite people. There’s a stirring of interest; people are never sure about what those two are going to do next. Jack and Daniel seem to be having a bit of a discussion; watch your language, please, boys, that’s my child there with you. Jack rises and takes Cassie with him. Daniel motions for Leslie to join him and they put their heads together.

And Daniel begins playing. But it’s not Christmas carols, nor is it the classic I would expect. Daniel is thumping out “Great Balls of Fire” and Leslie is belting it out.

I know I’m not the only one shocked. Jack, however, is smirking as he accepts money from a couple of Marines, obviously there was a bet that Daniel wouldn’t know this song. I have to grin as he stuffs the money in Cassie’s pocket.

Sterling Jackson (that already has such a ring to it) finishes to a round of applause and takes their bows graciously.

 

Unfortunately, the real world rears its ugly head and it’s back to work for us. Cassie is off for the holidays and I always hate to leave her with a sitter. I have now developed that mother’s fear that something is going to happen if I’m not right there to prevent it. Jack had assured me this is perfectly natural. I bow to his years of experience. His all too brief years of experience. 

I know the holidays are hell for him and the only way he can get through them is to surround himself with people for whom he cares. So he and Daniel and Teal’c made the rounds on Christmas day. My house, the general’s house. Sam’s the day after when she returns from holidays with her brother, now that they have patched up past differences. 

He likes to get Daniel started on holidays around the world and just sits back when the lecture mode kicks in. Cassie and the general’s granddaughters lap it up and they don’t even realize they’re getting an education. What is it about Daniel and girls?

However much he says he doesn’t like it, there is always a look of pride on Jack’s face when Daniel is teaching. It’s like he’s saying ‘yeah, that’s my boy, and ain’t he grand’?

I, like Jack, think Daniel would make a wonderful teacher. He cares so passionately about learning and he is a truly mesmerizing speaker. But then the girls would probably be writing “I love you” on their eyelids; he groans over that scene every time he sees that movie. Because Jack will inevitably make some crack about Dr. Jackson, teacher, archaeologist and love god.

I can see Daniel becoming a teacher after this gate thing is over. Of course, as soon as he finds Sha’re, he’s out the door, anyway. As much as he loves what he does and the people he does it with, none of it compares with his love for Sha’re. I really hope she knows, wherever she is, that he’s still fighting for her. Still looking for her. Still loves her desperately.

 

 

I wonder if Daniel will ever look at me the same way again. We both try to ignore the flinches when I touch him, when I turn toward him with a needle or a pill. I know this is going to take some time. 

And I know that I made the biggest mistake of my career by ever agreeing to let them take Daniel off this base. I should have fought and fought hard to keep him here. But I was so scared. Scared down to the bones that this was something I couldn’t cure. That no one could cure. 

So I stood by and kept my mouth shut and let them haul Daniel out of here, kicking and screaming until I myself gave him that last shot. As long as I live, I’ll never forget the look on his face. The look of utter betrayal. Like I was standing on the shore, doing nothing as he drowned. Then the sedative took effect and Daniel slipped away.

I was so devastated I didn’t even tell Cassie. And I never will, because I don’t want to see that look on her face, too.

The only way I know to treat Daniel now is with a clinical coolness that masks my turmoil. He allows this and it breaks my heart; when he calls me “Dr. Fraiser” now, there’s no smile behind it. And I can’t blame him.

Because I know it’s my fault and so does he.

 

 

I try to calm myself as I stand in the gate room waiting. General Hammond had sent an airman running for me, saying only that I was needed immediately. I flew up there with a pounding heart, wondering why he hadn’t simply called. The look on the general’s face told me why, that something had gone horribly wrong.

Then his words told me exactly how wrong. Sha’re was dead and Teal’c had killed her. Those words ripped through my heart. How, how could Daniel ever live with this? I was devastated and I had never met the woman. And poor Teal’c, he had to be beyond devastated. To have been forced to kill Daniel’s beloved Sha’re, how was he going to get over that? 

All I can do is to be there for Daniel. And Teal’c, big, stoic Teal’c with those expressive eyes, carrying a life-less shape covered with a blanket. I force myself to walk past him and focus on the man being supported between Sam and Jack. There is nothing I can do for Sha’re, but I can help her husband.

None of them could say for sure how long she had Daniel in the ribbon device; judging by the severe burn on his forehead, it had to be a fairly long time. Of course, that’s a relative term, a few seconds can kill with that thing. 

Teal’c tries to relate what happened without emotion, but fails. He continues speaking, blinking back tears that I don’t believe I’ve ever seen in those eyes. I know they all want to stand guard around Daniel’s bedside waiting for him to awaken, but I simply can’t allow it. 

I usher them out into the hallway and explain to them that the last thing Daniel needs now is the added burden of their grief and guilt. “He’s got enough of his own, he doesn’t need yours,” I snap at Jack as he argues with me. 

So I play the big bad doctor and order them out and get ready to move Daniel into isolation. I know when he wakes up, he doesn’t need to be in the bustle of the infirmary. If he breaks, when he breaks, I want it to be in the privacy of his own room. And I instruct the nurses to come and get me the instant, the very instant, they think he’s waking up.

As luck would have it, I’ve just finished sewing up one of the Abydonians when Nancy comes skidding in. I strip my gloves off and leave her to finish.

I plant myself on Daniel’s bed. I know he’s awake, but I patiently wait for him. When he finally turns his head and opens his eyes, he blinks very slowly. Then in that little boy lost voice, he whispers, “she’s gone, isn’t she?”

I cup his cheek with my hand. “Yes, Daniel, Sha’re is dead.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s here, in the morgue.” I force the word out.

“I want to see her. Janet, please, I need to see her.”

He hasn’t called me that in a very long time, but I stiffen my spine. “Not now. Daniel, you’re injured, you’re still in shock. Later, I promise, you can see her. Just not now, okay?” 

After they’ve taken off Amonet’s trappings, so that she will be, one last time, Daniel’s Sha’re.

“Promise?” That voice rips me up.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Teal’c?”

“Daniel,…”

“I have to see him, I know he did what was right, I have to tell him that.” The tears finally start coursing down his face, they’ve been running down mine all along. “I know he did what was best, Janet, I know that.” A sob escapes despite his attempts to stop it and he collapses on my shoulder. 

 

The only dry eyes at Sha’re’s service are Daniel’s. Except for his initial breakdown in the isolation room, he has done all his grieving in private. And will continue to do so.

If there is one good thing that has come of this tragedy, it’s that it finally broke down the wall between Daniel and me. He hugs me after the service, holding me so tightly he nearly brings me off the ground and whispers his thanks.

I stand back and watch as Jack casually slings his arm around Daniel’s neck and leans in so that their heads are touching, whispering to him, his hand cradling Daniel’s head.

I see Daniel nod before Jack slides the hood back to ruffle that short hair, see Daniel instinctively try to dart away, but Jack simply won’t allow it. I hear a sob catch in Sam’s breath as we both have to turn away.

Sam and I cry all the way back to the gate. And most of the night over a bottle of wine after we tuck Cassie in.

 

 

We’re running as soon as the elevator doors open. Medical emergency in the briefing room are not words you hear every day. What’s not surprising is the name Dr. Jackson is attached to them. How does he manage to attract so much trouble, even on Earth? But there he is, curled up on the floor of the briefing room, nearly crying in agony. One or two things run through my mind, it could be as simple as gas or as serious as internal injuries. 

I fling myself down beside him and try to get him to straighten up, but he fights me. “Colonel, Teal’c, hold him.” They manage to get him somewhat straight, and I look at those eyes. They’re dilated with pain; between that, the ghastly pallor and the writhing around, it’s evident he’s in serious pain. I quiz them about injuries, what he ate. No, nothing there.

I look up at a very worried Jack. “I’m going to try something and I need you to hold him.” He looks even more worried. “I’m sorry, Colonel, but I need to know.” He and Teal’c get a grip and I lightly press on Daniel’s lower abdomen. He nearly brings all of us off the floor with his lunge.

I grab his face, try to get him to focus. “Daniel, Daniel, stay with me!” I can see he’s trying. “Has your stomach been hurting?” He nods. “How long? Daniel, how long?” I slap his face hard and I hear someone gasp. “Dammit, Daniel, two days, four days, a week? How long?”

“Kheb, since Kheb.”

“Shit,” I shoot up from the floor, my heart’s in my throat as I add up the days, think to myself ‘damn you, Daniel, why did you wait so long?’

“General, we’re gonna need a surgeon immediately.” I supervise as they load Daniel onto a gurney, shouting as we hit the door. “I want blood drawn by the time we get to the OR.” We don’t have time to go to the infirmary first.

“I’ll call the hospital.”

“Get ‘em on a chopper, General. Tell them I think his appendix has ruptured.” 

I realize Sam knows how bad it is when she whispers, “Oh, God.”

 

 

Of all the close calls Daniel has had, I don’t think anyone outside the medical staff realized how narrowly we averted tragedy with this one. I don’t know how long Daniel’s appendix had been ruptured but in another hour, we probably couldn’t have saved him. 

General Hammond, bless him, had an Air Force surgeon on a chopper and at the base within a half an hour. I’d been in constant radio contact with her while she was on her way out, so she knew how critical he was. 

We had all the elevators waiting for her as she ran toward the operating room. Daniel was already prepped and ready and I filled her in as she scrubbed, trying not to worry because she looks so damn young with her long blonde ponytail and Nike sneakers. And I feel so damn old.

It took two agonizing hours for the surgery and even then, we couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t die of infection. I could see they were stunned when we walked wearily out of the operating room to inform them of that. 

Did they really think I could wave a magic wand and a perfectly healed Daniel would appear? Not gonna happen, kids. Daniel was looking at six weeks of recovery time, and probably longer.

I let the general and all of SG1 trail in and get a look at Daniel. He looked near death and in truth, still was. 

Dr. Clarice Toller has gone back to the hospital, with my eternal gratitude. Next time I see her at an Air Force function, I’m buying her a magnum of champagne. She hopped a chopper without question, without knowing where she was going, just that someone needed her. God bless these soldiers.

I take a much-needed shower and pull a chair up to Daniel’s bedside. I’m not leaving till I know he’s not going to die on me. I wasn’t there very long before my head hit the mattress beside his arm and I was out of it.

 

I wake up to find a gentle hand in my hair. Jerking up, I look into a pair of groggy blue eyes. “Hey, there, how you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he whispers.

“Well, that’s usually what happens when you blow your appendix. And then don’t tell your doctor when you’re feeling bad.” He’s too wiped out to even try to look contrite. I smooth his covers, looking into those pain-filled eyes. “Yes, I know you’re sorry and you’ll never do it again. And can you please go back to sleep now. Would you like a little ice?” He nods. A little is all he can handle, I can see that it hurts him to even try to swallow. 

“Yes, I know it hurts, Daniel,” I soothe him with my voice and my hand on his cheek. He automatically cuddles like a child into the caress and I can’t help but smile. “But the worst is over. Until Jack gets hold of you for not telling him you were sick.”

“Protect me?” He whispers with a hint of a smile.

I don’t even have the energy to come up with a smart-ass reply. “Always, Daniel, always.”

 

 

Daniel has been walking around like a zombie since we found out Thor’s ship crashed in the ocean. He’s certain they gated off, alive. I hope so, too, for all of us, but mostly for Daniel’s sake. 

He’s still weak and sore and prone to infection. But short of tying him to a bed in the infirmary, I haven’t had much luck making sure he’s resting and eating. He was dead pale when Jack last saw him; his color hasn’t improved since then.

Finally, I drag him into the infirmary and give him a stern lecture. He’s courting a relapse and I let him have it with both barrels. We both end up in tears; I’m as worried about him as he is about them. 

So we go into my office and shut the door. I end up doing more crying than he does, and I dose us both with Tylenol for the headache we now have. I shoo him out of the infirmary with my lecture ringing in his ears and praying that he’ll take better care of himself. 

I have an appointment with a lawyer this afternoon; I’m doing something I should have done a long time ago. After these last two big scares, I’ve been slapped in the face with mortality in a big way. 

I’m making Daniel Cassie’s legal guardian if something should happen to me. I know it’s not likely, since I rarely go off world, but I know it’s not impossible. Didn’t Daniel nearly die right here in the briefing room?

And tomorrow, I get to break it to Daniel that I’m giving him custody of my baby. I’ve thought about this seriously, gone through all the possibilities. 

I know Sam or Jack would take care of her, but I think she relates to Daniel on a level that they can’t even begin to understand. And I think she would be good for him. He loves her dearly and she worships him. I know if something happened to me tomorrow, Daniel would take care of her like she were his own.

In a strange kind of way, she already is.


End file.
